Scars
by Kioasakka
Summary: Hatter fears Alice will reject him because of the scars he got in the torture room. AxH


She would hate them.

That was the first thing that ran through my mind when I noticed the white marks on my body and face from where I'd been struck and burned in the torture room. She would hate them, and there was not a bloody thing I could do to get rid of them. These blemishes were permanent.

She'd been concerned, of course, when she'd seen me with bruises and blood on my face, but everything that had happened afterward had been so quick and so gripping of her attention—and mine as well, naturally—that she'd never again acknowledged my wounds. When she'd hugged me, despite the pain, it really had felt good: her arms around me, mine around her, and just the warmth and scent of _her _felt really, really good, regardless of the pain blooming in my back and shoulders.

Even I'd been able to ignore my pain for the most part during the mad rush of everything that had followed, so why would she remember? All bleeding had stopped by the time she reactivated the Looking Glass and we said our goodbyes.

Of course, by the time I saw her again, they'd long healed over and formed into the dreadful blemishes that now coated my body. Still she didn't notice, at least not at first—and then, well, that was when I kissed her, and she kissed me back, until her mother had (loudly) cleared her throat and we jumped apart like we were caught doing something very bad. After a rather half-assed explanation as to our actions, her mother had given up and left the room, and we left for my place.

(_My place._ Haha. Her now ex-boyfriend Jack had oh-so-kindly given me permission to live in his apartment before I'd come here, though I'd really no idea how I was supposed to pay the rent—but she promised to help me out, and so I decided to put it aside and figure it out later. He'd helped me find it and her apartment the day before so… I was pretty much all set.)

She checked it out and I sort of just watched her, not really interested at all in the place. When she was done, she whirled around and wrapped her fingers in my hair. "What's this combed hair nonsense?" she asked.

I feigned hurt. "What, you don't like it?"

"No, it's not that," she said, smiling; "I like it, really, it's very adorable—it's just… not you."

"Well then." I licked my fingers and ran them through my hair, trying to muss it back up. I frowned. "Did it work?"

She laughed. "No, you still don't have your flippy."

That made me smile. "My what?"

"Your hair flippy," she explained, playing with the front bit of my hair, trying to curl it up. "It curls over your hat like this—" Her eyes widened. "Where's your hat?"

"What, tha' old thing?" I shrugged. "What's tha' matter?"

She looked at me like I had two heads. "Hatter… you can't just not have your hat. It's like… against nature."

I laughed. "Against nature? Is tha' really what you're settling on?" I winked at her and slipped away into the bedroom. I could hear her following me as I grabbed the hat off the dresser and held it behind my back. I turned toward her. "Is this what you're talking about?" I asked, smiling as I twirled it in front of me.

She stuck her tongue out at me and snatched the thing from my hands. She set it atop my head and grinned. "That's better," she announced. "You look yourself again."

I smiled.

Her fingers lowered and grazed my face again, and the mood changed instantly. My lids lowered and I leaned in to kiss her when she asked, "What's this?"

I pulled back and licked my lips. "What's what?"

"These… Hatter, what happened?" Her fingertips were cool on the white lines on my face and I closed my eyes.

"I, um… well," I began, opening my eyes, "remember when I was sort of bleeding on the face? And you asked me if I was okay?"

"Yeah?" She looked at me with concern, and not distaste like I feared, but maybe…

"Well, ah, you see…" I stepped around her and moved decidedly into the living room, wringing my hands together. She slowly followed me into the room and I turned on my heel to face her. She walked to me the whole while I was talking. "After I failed at saving you and made a complete fool of myself, um, Mad March took me to the room with the two mad doctors and they sor' of jus' beat on me a li'le bit." She was right in front of me now. "It was no big deal, really, and they're jus' small li'le sc—"

She silenced me with her fingers on my skin again, and trailed them down my chin. "What else did they do to you?" she whispered.

"Nothin'!" I said, pretending to sound cheerful. "Nothin' at all, really—did, did you not jus' hear me? I said it was no big deal."

That look she was giving me would not go away, so I swallowed my smile and said again, very seriously, "Really."

She smiled tightly. "I don't think I believe you." She grabbed my hands and looked them over. They were covered with the white marks. She pushed up a sleeve and saw a rather nasty one on my forearm. She touched it gently, and I bit my lip nervously.

"Alice, please—"

"Hatter." Her voice was forceful, and it shut me up. "Let me see."

She took the bottom of my shirt and began to lift it, and I didn't stop her this time. I cringed at the gasp she let out when she saw the nasty pink blemishes on the sides of my ribcage from where the mad doctors had burned me with their electric torture sticks.

"Jesus Christ, Hatter—what did they do to you?"

I shrugged, like it were nothing. "Oh, tha'?" My voice cracked and slipped into a bit of an Irish lilt, "Tha's just a li'le burn from where they electrocuted me… repeatedly."

She looked up at me sharply, her eyes burning into mine. I swallowed hard.

"Hatter…"

The staring was becoming too much. I broke from her grip and turned away. "I ge' it, don't worry," I said loudly. "You think I'm ugly now. Right? Is tha' it? I knew you'd hate them. And now, you're wishin' you were back with handsome ole Jackie-poo, is tha' right?" I looked over my shoulder and faced her again. She hadn't moved, and looked pained. I smiled and tried to appear uncaring as I said, almost angrily, "Well you know somethin', love? I can't _do_ anythin' about it. Okay? These are for forever. So you know what, you've either got to learn to live wiv it, or jus', bloody… I dunno, leave." There were tears in my eyes—I could tell from the way they burned—and I couldn't stop the two that spilled onto my cheek when I blinked. I looked down, and then back up, my eyes on her feet. My voice softened. "Jus', like… forget about them. Okay? I haven't… changed, or anythin', because of 'em. They're jus' ugly and bad memories and I can't get rid of 'em, ever."

Her feet were coming closer as she moved toward me, but I wouldn't look at her, until she was right in front of me. My eyes carefully met hers, and she put her hands on my face and pulled me into a kiss.

Her kisses, I'd found, were something sweet and to be treasured, each like its own rare gem that I would greedily collect for myself. I dared to wrap my arms around her waist and pull her closer, and when we broke apart slowly, our lips still gently brushing for a moment, my lids lifted and gazed into her blue pools longingly.

"Hatter," she said softly, "do you really think I'm going to dump you because of some stupid scars?"

I eyed her warily, and she half-laughed and touched the one above my eye. "On the contrary…" She smiled crookedly at me. "I think it makes you look rather dashing. Rugged."

I still didn't believe her entirely, and she rolled her eyes. "What, you don't trust me?" she asked, and kissed me again. My body responded automatically, and I had my fingers in her hair. When we pulled away this time, she kissed my nose and said, "I love _you,_ Hatter—_and _your scars. Not what happened to give you them, of course, but since they're part of you—I love them too."

My brain wouldn't quite comprehend that, but I was stuck on her words. "You what?" I murmured, almost fearfully.

Her smile melted my heart. "I love you," she said again, and leaned her head into my chest, holding me tight but gently.

A smile made its way onto my face and I hugged her back. She still cared, even with these horrible blemishes I'd never be rid of. Almost without thinking about it, I whispered back, "I love you too, Alice." And I kissed the top of her head and knew, somehow, that it would all be all right. Because, see, I had my Alice, and as long as I had her, everything would always be okay.


End file.
